The Land of Morning Calm, directed by Park Ri-woong, is a powerful portrait of a fading Korean fishing village and the emotional dislocation of its residents. Supported by moving performances from Yoon Joo-sang, Yang Hee-kyung, and Khazsak Kramer, the film explores generational divides, economic decline, and the complex, often unspoken tensions surrounding immigration and arranged marriages. Through its restrained storytelling and superb cinematography, Park offers a poignant reflection on community, identity, and the search for connection in an increasingly fragmented world.

During this year’s Far East Film Festival in Udine, where The Land of Morning Calm had its European premiere, we had the opportunity to sit down with director Park Ri-woong to discuss the film. Soft-spoken yet thoughtful, Park brought a quiet sensitivity to our conversation. He spoke about his intention to show rather than tell, and how he deliberately shaped the narrative around the partial understanding of his aging protagonist. In doing so, he created a film that avoids easy resolutions and instead captures the texture of real life – messy, unresolved, and deeply human. His approach to themes of immigration, aging, and rural isolation marks him as a filmmaker unafraid to dwell in discomfort and let meaning emerge gradually.

VOA: What inspired you to tell the story set in a small fishing village, and how did you create such a realistic atmosphere?

Park Ri-woong: I needed a place where ordinary people might realistically commit fraud due to desperate conditions. Life at sea involves more risks and accidents than life on land, making it easier to imagine people faking accidents. If someone fell into the sea, the only witness would likely be the captain, creating essential tension in the story. Additionally, fishing villages offer more dynamic visuals than rural farmland.

If the atmosphere felt realistic, it’s partly due to the detailed set design but mostly due to my editing approach. Usually, scenes start by showing the location first. However, I chose to introduce scenes by focusing on characters first, making viewers feel immediately immersed in their daily lives. This method naturally enhanced realism and allowed viewers to experience the spaces as backgrounds for the characters.

Location scouting was crucial as well. Many coastal villages in Korea have lost their authenticity, replaced by tourist attractions like cafes and motels. We spent about 45 days searching the East Coast for suitable locations, but eventually had to film important scenes on southern islands. Ironically, filming across various locations helped us create a consistent atmosphere.

VOA: Yoon Joo-sang is a legend of K-dramas and film. How did you come about working with him? And when you worked on the script, did you have particular actors in mind?

Park Ri-woong: When I was writing the script, I didn’t have a specific actor in mind, but I had a very clear idea of the type of character I wanted. Initially, the character was written as much tougher, more aggressive, even. He was the kind of figure that might push the audience away emotionally as the story progressed. However, when we began considering different actors, I noticed something in Yoon Joo-sang: a certain warmth and intimacy in his features. There was a quiet depth that softened the harsher aspects of the character. Casting him brought out a different dimension—one that made the character more complex and human. In the end, the role evolved in response to his presence, becoming the version we see in the final film.

VOA: The hostility towards outsiders – both subtle and overt – runs through the film. Do you see this as a reflecting broader attitudes in South Korea towards immigrants from the South and Southeast Asian region, and did you encounter any resistance in addressing this, including the arranged marriage topic?

Park Ri-woong: It’s not necessarily a case of outright discrimination, but rather one where people who have grown up and lived in very homogenous communities suddenly find themselves living alongside individuals from different cultures. In those cases, they may not even be fully aware of their own prejudices.

For example, in the scene where the older man offers to marry the young woman so she can stay in the country, it comes across, especially from her point of view, as a kind of sexual harassment. But from his perspective, especially considering the norms in rural areas and among older generations, it may have seemed like a casual or even well-meaning suggestion. He might not have understood how inappropriate or uncomfortable it was for her. So the issue of prejudice and discrimination isn’t always black and white – it’s layered and complicated. And that complexity is something I wanted to express in the film.

VOA: Yeong-guk and Pan-rye are portrayed sensitively by veteran actors. Why was it important to center the story around older characters, and what does their perspective show about generational change in rural Korea?

Park Ri-woong: The film is about the aftermath of a region that has declined after its peak. It asks who is responsible for this decline and what choices people make when they realize their own mistakes. It was important to show the story from the perspective of someone who slowly understands why others want to leave. Rather than focusing on those eager to escape, I chose the viewpoint of a character who gradually learns and changes his perspective.

Older people often have stubborn views because they don’t want their lifelong experiences to be invalidated. This stubbornness makes them resistant to new ideas, leading to isolation and worsening conditions. This is a major problem in aging societies because it blocks new people and ideas from entering, making things worse.

How can this vicious cycle be broken? The film suggests “disconnection.” I hesitate to interpret the story optimistically because even the protagonist, who clearly sees the problems, ultimately decides to let his crew member leave instead of trying to fix the situation himself. Any warmth viewers feel probably comes from nostalgia – a longing for a past that can’t return – which makes the future portrayed seem even darker.

VOA: The story unfolds slowly and leaves much unsaid. Why did you choose this approach?

Park Ri-woon: I chose this style because the film is about why someone decides to leave rather than just focusing on the act of leaving. The reasons behind this decision are complicated. Telling this story conventionally would require a longer runtime to explain everything clearly. Instead, I decided to show only what the elderly main character could understand about the situation. By focusing on his limited viewpoint and partial understanding, I hoped viewers would grasp the broader issues intuitively. While this approach wasn’t fully planned from the start, it proved effective for clearly conveying the film’s themes.

VOA: Could you discuss the editing and cinematography? What was your experience during filming and post-production? Did you initially envision the film the same way your cinematographer ultimately captured it?

Park Ri-woong: Initially, I wasn’t happy with the editor’s first version because it emphasised the character trying to escape. I wanted the story told from the elderly protagonist’s viewpoint, focusing on why he decided to let others leave. So we re-edited the film accordingly. Music was added to evoke curiosity about characters’ internal states rather than heightening their obvious emotions, helping to consistently convey the protagonist’s feelings.

Regarding cinematography, I originally imagined more spacious shots that highlighted the village’s landscape and natural surroundings. My cinematographer initially shared this idea. However, during filming, we found ourselves focusing more closely on the characters. The village and natural scenery gradually became just backgrounds for the characters, creating the sense of distance you see now. While I occasionally wondered if wider shots might have been visually better, I decided the current approach better emphasized the tension between characters.

Written and interviewed by Maggie Gogler

Featured image courtesy of Maddie Armstrong for View of the Arts

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